


Seven Mornings

by BombshellKell



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Multiple Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombshellKell/pseuds/BombshellKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven universes, seven mornings, one relationship that transcends dimensions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Mornings

**I. Asgard, 2016 AD**

“How does it feel to be a princess?” he asks her, smiling against her lips as he gives her another kiss. They are still drowsy, still curled around one another beneath the blankets even though the sun has been streaming through the window for some time. 

Sif lets out a soft laugh, not opening her eyes just yet. “Wonderful,” she says, turning her face down and kissing his chest, just between his collarbones. “Though not much different than being just warrior, I admit. Although it is nice to be able to sleep together without hiding the fact.” 

Loki grins. It’s true; the night before, they’d gone back to his chambers holding hands and smiling discreetly at one another, shutting the door behind them, free of the need to sneak to one another’s rooms in the middle of the night, free of the need to quiet each other and themselves, free of the need to feel guilty because of what Thor would think. 

Thor has his mortal woman now, and Loki has his princess. 

\- - - 

**II. Egypt, 1330 BC**

Sif is painting the kohl beneath her eye when Loki finally wakes, stretching his naked torso out as far as it will go like a sleepy cat under their linens. She looks at him over her shoulder, smirking, before getting up and leaving her mirror to sit on the edge of the bed again. 

She wears her finest, whitest gown, and hasn’t yet put on any of her heavy jewelry or hairpieces, and she knows that this is when he finds her the most beautiful. He turns onto his side, opening his eyes and looking up at her, only one of her eyes outlined in kohl and the other still bare. 

“I did not mean to interrupt,” he says, though he takes her hand and brings it to his lips. “You can at least finish applying your makeup, since you insisted you don’t need any handmaidens to do it.

“I don’t,” she says, pressing the back of her hand to his lips, encouraging him to kiss her hand again. “But come. Get up, and you may help me finish it. And then I can paint your eyes as well.” 

“I would love nothing more,” he says, closing his eyes again. “In just five minutes.” 

\- - - 

**III. Virginia, USA, 2013 AD**

“Wake up,” Loki says, tossing the pillow from his side of the bed down over her head. “It’s time to get going.” 

“No,” she groans, and turns onto her stomach, shoving the pillow off. “Screw you. I had at least a half hour left when your alarm went off.” 

“And it’s been a half hour,” he says, grinning and leaning down to kiss the back of her head, the only part he can reach without kissing the blankets. “Unless you want me to call the station and tell them their greatest officer is going to let crime run rampant today because she doesn’t want to get out of bed.” 

“You can’t guilt me with work.” 

“Then how about a bribe?” he suggests. leaning over her again and whispering in her ear. “It’s Friday. If you wake up now, I’ll be sure we feel like sleeping in until one in the afternoon tomorrow.” 

She turns her head enough to look up at him, and he can tell that she’s smiling even if she’s trying to hide it. “You really suck, you know that?” 

“You married me,” he points out, giving her rear end a shove. “Now. Time to get up.” 

\- - - 

**IV. England, 1912 AD**

“Sigyn will be in to dress me soon,” Sif says, yawning and sitting up. Loki stays lying down, looking up at her with a bemused smirk. 

“And that’s concerning to me because...?” 

“Because we aren’t married yet, and you’re not even supposed to be sleeping in this wing of the house,” she says, but can’t help but laugh. “You have three minutes, I’d say, before the servants start getting everyone up and about.” 

“Three minutes. Is that some sort of challenge?” Loki grabs her arm, and tries to pull her back down. She surprises him by pushing his arm down onto the bed and climbing over him, the fabric of her nightdress draping over his legs and stomach. 

“I love you, you know,” she says, just watching him from above. 

“I hope so, considering you’re the one who asked me to marry you, and I had to pretend to do it in public.” 

“Something I still appreciate, by the way.” She shifts, laying on top of him with her arms folded on his chest, and her chin resting on her arms. “And it made you look quite dashing. So you’re very welcome.” 

“As if you’re the only thing about me that could be considered appealing.” 

“No,” she says with a grin. “But I’m certainly one of the greater ones.” 

\- - - 

**V. Illinois, USA, 1925**

“You’re beautiful,” he says, taking another swig from the bottle of wine they’d shared the night before. Sif is sitting at her vanity, but looks over her shoulder when she hears his voice. 

“So I’ve been told,” she says with a mischievous smile, putting her other earring in. 

“You and I should get out of the States, Sif. Come back to England with me, where you can still have a drink every so often without having to hide it.” 

“Are we going to the speakeasy tonight?” she asks, ignoring his question. He notices.

“I said you should come back to England with me.”

“We’ve already had this conversation. I can’t.” 

“Because of Thor? You really want to stay here because of Thor?” 

“Thor loves me,” she says simply. “And not just in the mornings, either. All day.” She stands, smoothing the tassels and beading on her dress. 

“I love you all day,” he protests, sitting up. “The only reason they even let you into the speakeasy is because of me and my violin.”

“Yeah, right. The only reason they let you play is because you have a pretty girl on your arm.” She snatches her purse up from the vanity and leaves, the door closing sharply behind her. 

\- - - 

**VI. Mirkwood, Middle Earth, Third Age**

“My lady? My lady… are you hurt?” 

Sif wakes to the sound of a fair voice. It’s been a long time since she left Gondor behind, and these woods are the first she’s encountered since she’d gone past the borders of Fangorn. She knows them as Mirkwood, but she hadn’t been certain whether or not the elves that live here would stop her. Or in this case, wake her. But the figure standing above her is an elf, that much is certain, and he does not seem to care about anything other than her wellbeing. 

“No,” she says, blinking. “No, I am not hurt. I was only asleep. The sun cannot have been up for very long.” 

"It hasn't been," he says, stepping back. She can see his pointed ears, sticking up slightly through his hair. He's an elf, definitely. And she's a woman, an ordinary woman, which means he probably wants her out. 

"I'll be going now," she says, hauling herself to her feet. 

"Do you need any assistance?" the elf asks her. 

"No," she says simply, taking her bag and hefting it over her shoulder. "If I felt as if I needed any help, I wouldn't have trusted myself enough to sleep." But perhaps she would let him help. He wasn't unpleasant to look at. 

\- - - 

**VII. New York, USA, 2135 AD**

He's lying next to her with his eyes open. And why shouldn't he have his eyes open? It wasn't as if androids could sleep. Sif reaches a hand over and smoothes it over his chest, marveling at how human-like it felt, how she can't tell that there are only gears and wires underneath it. He's so perfect, his face chiseled and pale, his eyes bright green. Suddenly, he turns his head to look at her, and she starts. 

"Oh. Sorry," she says, shaking her head. But why is she apologizing to a robot?" 

"You need not apologize," he says, in the stiff voice she hasn't quite gotten used to yet. "This is what I am for. Being here when you are awake. Being there when you go to sleep. If you would like, I can remove some of my clothing so that we can--" 

"No, no, it's alright," she says, stopping his hand as it gravitates down toward the black metallic pants he came in. "We don't have to do that." 

"That is my purpose." 

"Well, maybe we have to find you a new purpose," she says, sitting up and getting out of bed. He stares after her, his emotionless face slowly turning up into a smile.


End file.
